


Find Me When Our House is Empty

by goodoldfashioned



Category: RedLetterMedia RPF
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Technology, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hiding, Hurt/Comfort, Large Cock, M/M, Magic Cock, Panic, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Tentacles, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodoldfashioned/pseuds/goodoldfashioned
Summary: Mike and Jay have been hiding together in Plinkett's basement for months. Things get real weird,  then weirder.
Relationships: Mike/Jay
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29





	Find Me When Our House is Empty

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a birthday gift for Coq! Thank you again for the prompt that inspired this, hope your birthday is wonderful!! <3 <3
> 
> I don't know how to speak about this premise in notes, except that it's purely about the Half in the Baaaaaag characters and also to say that I almost made the title 'Put That Thing Back Where it Came From or So Help Me.' 
> 
> *

“Jay? Jay. Jay! Jaaaaay. Jay, c’mon. I know you’re awake.” 

He’s not wrong, but Jay keeps his eyes shut tight and his nose scrunched up, his shoulders tense and drawn up toward his ears while Mike starts to physically as well as verbally disrupt his attempt to sleep, poking at Jay’s back in little jabs of his finger. It’s like four o’clock in the morning, or four o’clock in the afternoon. Plinkett’s basement has no windows and time has become meaningless. Whatever the fuck the clock says, it’s Jay’s bedtime and Mike is driving him insane like it’s his job. 

“What?” Jay finally snaps, flipping onto his back to glare at Mike, who’s lying in bed behind him, looking sheepish. “What the hell is so important that you--”

“I can’t stop thinking about the Cock Master.” 

Mike looks at least a little ashamed of himself after blurting this, his thick eyebrows pulling together and arching upward as if he’s waiting for Jay to again chastise him for his obsession with one of the arcane sex toys they found in Plinkett’s disturbingly large collection, which they discovered while rummaging around down here out of boredom. It’s been months since the old man returned from Mexico and they were forced to take shelter in his basement, the upstairs part of the house now retaken by its rightful owner. Plinkett doesn’t know they’re down here and doesn’t seem physically able to use the basement stairs or hear much of anything they get up to, including showering and flushing the toilet in the basement’s tiny corner bathroom. For reasons they don’t want to think about, the basement is outfitted like a complete living space, with a fridge, microwave, a set of old laundry machines, and a blanket-piled mattress they’ve been sharing as a bed. Jay knows he should feel lucky to have this shelter while god knows what goes on outside, but with Mike’s constant needy prodding and that huge trunk full of sex toys that Jay refuses to use, since presumably they have been used by Plinkett, he also sometimes feels like he’s been cursed to live in hell. 

“Why are you thinking about the Cock Master,” Jay asks, his voice flat and his gaze pointed up at the ceiling while Mike scoots over to nuzzle at him, as if this subject is going to put Jay in the mood.

“How can you _not_ be thinking about it?” Mike asks. “It’s just-- Over there. Waiting. Offering untold pleasures.” 

Mike strokes his hand across Jay’s chest after saying so, trying to be seductive. Jay huffs and fidgets, still tired. His cock twitches and fattens when Mike rubs at his nipples through the three layers he’s wearing. It’s freezing in the basement, and with nothing else to look forward to Jay has become very easy to arose. He’s become very easy for Mike, period, but he’s still not going to entertain this nonsense about letting Mike stick his dick in that Cock Master device, when they don’t even know what the thing is supposed to do. 

To Mike’s credit, he’s at least not trying to convince Jay to put his own dick into that thing so they can test it out and see how it works. He only wants to try it on himself, with increasingly deranged desperation. Jay refuses to let him, which he feels is his right, because after the amount of sex he’s had with Mike over the past eight months or so, it seems like Mike’s cock kinda sorta belongs to Jay, too, and like he should have a say in what Mike does with it. 

“I don’t understand you,” Jay says, turning his still-angry face against Mike’s when the nuzzling and rubbing at his nipples continues. “Why the fuck would you want to sacrifice your dick just for the sake of curiosity?” 

“It wouldn’t be a sacrifice, Jay. I have a good feeling about that thing. It calls to me.” 

“That’s the best reason I’ve heard yet to avoid it. Your instincts suck.”

“How can you say that,” Mike says, moving his face down to breathe hotly against Jay’s throat. “When your ass gets so satisfied by my instincts on a daily basis.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense. You’re, like. Talking in your sleep. Go to bed.” 

“I’m in bed, Jay, and so are you. And the Cock Master 5000 is over there in the sex toy trunk, keeping me awake like the telltale heart.” 

Jay opens his mouth and turns to glare at Mike when he lifts his face, but when he sees Mike grinning like he thinks that was clever he can’t help but laugh. Mike laughs, too, and sticks his bed-warmed hand up under all three layers of Jay’s shirts to rub his belly. It’s possible they’re both going insane. Jay’s dick is hard in his sweatpants now, thanks to Mike. Or no thanks to him. Jay can’t decide how he feels about the fact that Mike has used the circumstances of this latest round of end-times drama to make Jay addicted to his cock. All he knows is that he doesn’t want Mike sticking his big, satisfying, treasure of a cock in any strange devices, because he likes having Mike stick it up his ass too much to risk anything happening to it. 

“What exactly do you think is going to happen if you use that thing?” Jay asks, for what feels like the thousandth time. 

Mike shrugs. “Something good. An adventure. A sexcapade, if you will.”

“Don’t ever say that word again. It’s-- Not even a word, I don’t think. That thing looks like alien tech, Mike. And you don’t know where it’s been, but it’s probably been on Plinkett, which is reason enough not to touch it.” 

“It speaks English, Jay.” 

“That’s hardly a good sign.” 

They have stuck several objects inside the hollow metal sleeve of the Cock Master 5000 to see what would happen to them: a banana, one of Plinkett’s more realistic looking dildos, the end of a flashlight, and Mike even stuck a few of his fingers in there when Jay wasn’t looking. Every attempt ended the same way, with a robotic voice from the device announcing:

“INVALID OBJECT. PLEASE INSERT COCK.” 

Jay took this request from the thing as yet another reason not to put a real cock in it. Mike, of course, had the opposite reaction. He’s decided the device is intelligent and that it’s his destiny to use it.

“Okay, let’s think about the hypotheticals,” Jay says while Mike continues to feel him up, his fingers casually plucking at Jay’s stiff nipples now. “First off, it could injure you.”

“I feel like it won’t.”

“Your feelings are irrelevant. Second, we know Plinkett is uhh, not well-endowed.”

“Wish I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, me too, but we know this, and so that thing is probably some scam that’s supposed to make your cock bigger, which, even if it worked-- Mike. Your cock is already huge, so. What do you stand to gain?”

Mike grins down at Jay, looking pleased with himself. He loves being told the obvious, that he has a big fat dick and that Jay loves it. Sometimes Jay thinks that’s the whole reason he’s acting like he wants to put his dick in the Cock Master: so that Jay will keep saying, over and over, how much he likes it the way it is. 

Jay scowls. He’s let this get so out of hand, but there’s nothing else to do, and he’d rather keep inflating Mike’s already huge ego than deny himself the pleasures of Mike’s huge dick. 

“I have to know, Jay,” Mike says. “I can’t live without knowing what that thing does.” 

Jay grabs Mike’s wrist and pulls his hand out from under his shirts. He knows what Mike is doing, what that statement was supposed to provoke.

He wants Jay to say, in reply: well, Mike, I can’t live without your cock. 

Jay refuses. Even here, in a dank basement at the maybe end of the world, he will not speak those words to Mike, not even to save Mike’s perfect dick from peril. He rolls away from Mike and tucks his hands under his cheek, scowling at the laundry machines, his cock throbbing for attention because Mike woke him up for this shit, to torture him. 

“I’m hard just thinking about it,” Mike says, rubbing the bulge of his erection against the backs of Jay’s thighs. 

“You’re hard because you were playing with my nipples. Let me rest, goddamn you.” 

“I caaan’t, I’m all worked up now. I’m gonna go stick my dick in that thing.”

“You are not!” Jay says, embarrassed when he hears his voice get high-pitched and almost break, from exasperation as much as distress. “Mike, stop. I know what you’re doing, and I’ve had enough.”

“What am I doing? What have you had enough of?”

Jay smashes his lips together rather than saying out loud: you’re using the Cock Master 5000 to emotionally blackmail me! 

The world is not yet on fire enough for those words to leave his lips. 

“I hate you,” he mutters instead. 

“You do not,” Mike says. His mouth is on Jay’s throat again, warm and soft. He licks across the overgrown stubble there and it feels good, which isn’t fair. Jay snaps his hips back angrily and only succeeds in dragging his ass against Mike’s still-filling cock. Mike moans and licks him again. “If you want me to leave you alone,” Mike says, “I can go entertain myself.”

“Yeah, with the Cock Master? You fucking asshole. I should just let you do it.”

“You should, Jay, you really should. But I won’t, unless you tell me I can.” 

Jay says nothing, waiting for what comes next, boiling with rage and arousal under all his layers and the pile of blankets. 

“‘Cause my cock belongs to you now,” Mike says, murmuring this into Jay’s ear and humping his ass in slow drags. He’s making Jay get wet and sticky against the front of his briefs, his cock leaking out fat drops of precome while his breath comes faster, a giveaway that Mike won’t miss. “Isn’t that right,” Mike says, his hand sneaking over Jay’s hip and then across his belly, just above where Jay’s dick is tenting his sweatpants. “Hmm? Let’s do the one where I’m a big beast chained up for your sexual gratification.” 

By ‘do the one’ he means one of the dozens of roleplay scenarios they’ve come up with over the months spent alone here together, for entertainment and because they’ve both discovered they love being soul-meltingly embarrassing by doing what essentially amounts to improv during sex. 

“Way too fucking tired for that,” Jay mumbles, halfway admitting that he does want to have some kind of sex, just nothing so elaborate.

“Okay, okay, fair enough. Sorry I woke you up. Let me make it up to you.” 

“How,” Jay says, though of course they both know. What can they do for each other down here except milk out each other’s orgasms and cling hard in the dark to fight off the cold and remind themselves they’re still human, mostly?

“First, I’d take off your pants,” Mike says, his way of asking for permission. 

Jay sighs and twists so Mike can slide them down, granting it. 

Mike pushes him onto his back after stripping off his pants under the blankets. He clambers on top of Jay, grinning triumphantly down at his petulant, blushing face. Upstairs, Plinkett has the TV on, which means nothing about whether it’s day or night. He falls asleep in that chair with it on most every day. Sometimes they sneak upstairs and steal his food. 

Mike pets Jay’s cheeks with his thumbs like he thinks he’s being sweet. Maybe in Mike’s world, he is. Jay has to admit he doesn’t want Mike to move, that the warm weight of his body pressing Jay’s down into the mattress like there’s no escape feels real good already.

“Would you rather I suck your dick or eat your ass, for starters?” Mike asks.

“You sound like a waiter,” Jay says, and he feels himself start to smile. “Asking what I want for an appetizer.” 

“Yeah, well. I’m just trying to earn a good tip here. Like getting to fuck you.” 

Mike says so like he hasn’t fucked Jay hundreds of times already, sometimes three times a day, and like he ever has to work particularly hard to make Jay want him.

“Suck my cock,” Jay says, instead of: I don’t understand you, again. “ _Garçon_.” 

“What’d you just call me?” Mike says, rearing back like’s hurt.

“It’s the French word for waiter, dummy. The rude version, anyway.” 

Mike rolls his eyes like Jay is being pretentious, but also kisses him on the mouth before slinking under the blankets to crouch between his spreading legs and slurp at his cock. 

“Ah, god,” Jay says, as softly as he can manage to, glad all over again that Plinkett is nearly deaf. He rubs his hand over his tired eyes and lets his hips start to roll, pushing his other hand under the blankets to grab one of Mike’s ears while he fucks his cock up into the wet heat of his mouth. Mike teases him for being on the small side, but Jay doesn’t give a single fuck, because it makes blow jobs so good and because he ran out of angst about his smallness sometime in his twenties, after spending most of his life up to that point feeling like shit about it. Around the time he hit thirty the insecurity tank finally ran dry, having been over-pumped to death, and now he almost likes how little he is, at least when Mike is fucking into him and sounding like he might start crying in worship while he babbles about how tight and tiny Jay feels on his dick.

“Mike,” Jay slurs out after he’s started to sweat under his shirts, blissed out and greedy, trying to really slam himself up into Mike’s mouth while Mike holds his hips down. He moves his hand from Mike’s ear to his hair, tugging. “Muh, Mike, c’mon-- C’mere.” 

He wants to get fucked, and he feels so good and sensitive and already close to coming that he’ll say so if Mike makes him, no regrets. Mike crawls up out from under the blankets looking smug and pink-cheeked, his hair all messed up and static-filled.

“Get the lube,” Jay says, already pulling his legs up against his chest. “Gonna give you a real good tip.” 

Mike kisses Jay’s left knee before leaning over the side of the mattress to feel around in the near-dark for the lube. Jay’s skin tingles where Mike kissed him, because he’s all lit up from the blow job and still sleepy, and because-- Whatever. Mike’s weird little gestures of goopy affection make Jay shiver with embarrassment and something else, too. Mike’s favorite roleplays are about saving Jay from some danger and then getting to fuck him as a reward. Jay’s favorites are about one of them owning the other in some dark and inescapable way. 

“Oh god yeah,” Mike says when he’s sinking his cock into Jay, his mouth hanging open like he’s still surprised by how good it feels, or like he still can’t believe it’s finally happening. He meanced Jay with leering jokes about how they should fuck for fifteen years before they got stuck here together. Jay always thought Mike was just making fun of him, till now.

“Nhnn, yeah,” Jay mutters against Mike’s parted lips when he’s so deep it aches in the best way. It’s like being introduced to some part of himself he never would have known without Mike’s dick intruding there, making room for Mike to use this part of Jay to feel good.

“Fuckfuck _fuck_ ,” Mike says, dropping down fully onto Jay’s chest and sinking even deeper inside him, opening him up so wide around the blunt heat of his dick that Jay gasps like it’s the first time, too, like an idiot. “So good, mph. Jay, you little-- C’mere.” 

Jay knows what Mike almost always means by _come here_ , even when he’s already pinned under Mike and speared on his cock. He opens his mouth for Mike’s wet kisses, lets Mike’s tongue push deep inside him, too. They both groan when they’re fully locked together, Jay so full he feels like he could die happy from it, with Mike throbbing against his stretched open rim in a way that somehow makes Mike seem like the helpless one, at least to Jay. His arms circle Mike’s neck on instinct, his heels digging into Mike’s sides. He never had sex like this before Mike: face to face, with kissing, under blankets. They didn’t start out like this, but it didn’t take Mike long to wear Jay down into cuddling not just after but during their fucks. Jay knows Mike takes these kissing breaks to make himself last longer, which is practical, even thoughtful, so Jay allows it. Mike is big enough that it feels good just to let him throb like that, and Jay usually needs a moment to catch his breath anyway, with Mike taking up so much room inside him that his organs feel squeezed.

“You have the biggest fucking cock,” Jay says, because he’s delirious, and because he hasn’t forgotten Mike’s reckless fascination with the Cock Master, as if it could do anything better than this feels. “Nnh, it’s-- Mike, it’s, ah.” He shuts his eyes and tries to clench his ass up around Mike, held open so wide that he barely can. “It’s, like. Just, so-- Right.”

“Okay, Goldilocks,” Mike says, as if Jay doesn’t feel stupid enough after having said that. He lets Mike sweep his way-too-long hair back. It’s so long that it’s barely blond anymore, but gold isn’t inaccurate. He can feel a sour look trying to form on his face, but it keeps getting melted away with every twitch of Mike atop him and inside him, all of it so good with barely any effort from Mike. All he has to do is put that giant dick in Jay and he’s doing everything right, making Jay sound like he’s a dopey girl in a fairy tale, making Jay whimper for him. 

It’s so unfair, but Jay couldn’t survive without the unfairness of it, at least not down here. He’s beginning to worry that he won’t make it without this back up in the real world either, but maybe that’s pointless. Maybe the real world isn’t coming back, anyway. 

Jay barely cares if it will or not when Mike starts to fuck into him with muted grunts, his intense eyes boring down into Jay’s the whole time. Jay shuts his eyes, throws his head back to groan and then peeks again. Mike is still watching him, looking intent and calm in the filthiest way, like he’s enjoying the spoils of some war he just won. They have a couple of roleplays like that. A few weeks back Jay came so hard during one that he forgot where they were and literally screamed Mike’s name, causing Plinkett to pick up the phone upstairs, thinking he’d heard it ringing.

“Man, you love that,” Mike says when he’s got his hand over Jay’s mouth to keep his moans quiet. He’s not even gloating: he looks proud, but more of Jay than of himself. “Fuck, look at you, made for that cock. Fucking take it, yeah. Take it like you need it.” 

Jay is very much doing that, his knees pushed to his shoulders and his mind going offline, as he moans and drools against Mike’s palm. Mike scrambles up onto his knees to get better leverage and uncovers Jay’s mouth in the process, grabbing the backs of his trembling thighs instead. Jay has bruises all over, and he secretly, deeply loves how marked up this whole experience has left him. 

“Come on that cock,” Mike says, grinding down into him and looking kind of insane, the way he always does when he’s right on the edge himself. He’s nailing Jay’s prostate, knows exactly what he’s doing, and he swats Jay’s hand away every time he tries to reach for his dick, which is heavy and drooling precome steadily onto Jay’s folded-up stomach. “No,” Mike says when Jay reaches for it again, sobbing under his breath with the need to get off. “No, you don’t get to do that. You’re so fucking full, s’gonna come out just like this. Just like-- That, yeahhh, there you go, fucking shoot that load for me, _fuck_.”

Jay moans and covers his face with both hands while he spills all over himself, untouched. Coming from getting fucked always seems to go on forever, every movement of Mike inside him punching more out, keeping the feeling of losing control rolling through him over and over. Mike grabs Jay’s wrists and pulls his hands away from his face, breathing hard through his nose while he starts to fuck him in long, deep strokes through his still unspooling orgasm. He’s watching every jerk and twitch and sigh on Jay’s face while he holds his wrists in a crushing grip, leaving more bruises.

“Oh-- fuck,” Mike says, almost weakly, when he finally starts to pump his load into Jay’s ass, his whole body tumbling forward over Jay’s as he finishes inside him. He bites Jay’s ear while he groans through it, and the feeling of Mike’s teeth digging into his soft, blushing earlobe makes Jay’s emptied dick pulse in a way that hurts real good. 

They lie together in a sweaty mess of half kicked-away blankets and listen for sounds from the first floor as they come down from the shared high of sex. There’s nothing going on up there but the faint hum of the TV. Jay is drifting to sleep by the time he feels Mike’s softened dick sliming out of him, followed at once by a flood of come. Mike always comes so much. Jay wants to take it as a compliment, but it’s just another aspect of there being so much of Mike, in all ways.

Jay goes limp and lets Mike do the cleanup, because he’s exhausted and because this was Mike’s idea. Mike handles him like a delicate ragdoll when he’s this fucked out, and it makes Jay flush against the bedsheets where he’s buried his face, because he likes this, too: the way Mike spreads him open with possessive tenderness and rubs a damp washcloth over the mess Mike made of him, cleaning away as much of his own come as he can, and the way he pushes Jay’s wrecked hair away from the back of his neck to kiss him there. 

“Do you want a drink?” Mike asks. 

“No. I want to sleep.”   
  
“I know! I meant like, water or something. Not beer.” 

Jay shakes his head and drags the single pillow they share into place. Mike has arranged the blankets back over him, but he’s cold as soon as Mike leaves the bed, and still awake, listening to Mike pad around and get something from the fridge. He doesn’t like how hyperaware he constantly is of Mike’s location, and doesn’t like thinking about how long it’s been since they were more than a few paces apart. Typically Jay is a solitary person, but that has never applied to Mike. Jay used to tell himself that was only because Mike refused to let it apply to him. He was always there, up in Jay’s space, getting into his business, dragging him into his schemes. Now Jay feels itchy thinking about what it would be like if they got the all clear to go back to life as it used to be, or whatever normality will resemble when the world resumes its old routines. Mike will probably go back to fucking the kind of dummies he usually sticks his dick in, doe-eyed people who worship him until he gets tired of them, because he feels too threatened by anyone who might actually ask him to compromise or change his habits and can’t therefore have anything resembling a real relationship.

Or maybe it’s Jay who does that, kinda. He’s losing track of where one of them ends and the other begins. He’s also falling asleep, cozy, as soon as Mike climbs back under the blankets and crowds himself greedily around the heat of Jay’s body, tucking his heavy arm across Jay’s chest to keep him close while they sleep. 

“Oh, Jay,” Mike says, hugging him tight and mumbling this against the top of his head. 

Mercifully, Jay falls asleep before he has to hear any more. Sometimes Mike gets real poetic about his ass or hair or eyes after they fuck. Jay can barely stand it. He hates thinking about how he must look to Mike, like this soft little thing made to be used hard and then put back together with care. He just can’t stop acting like that’s exactly what he is, down here. 

*

They have good and bad days together in isolation. Most are somewhere between the two, a grayish blur of watching movies on their phones or on the basement’s fuzzy old TV set, sneaking food from Plinkett’s kitchen or trekking to the Kwik Mart in masks to restock their supplies, and keeping each other’s spirits up with sex. Sometimes a perfect combination leads to an especially good day, the kind that Jay wouldn’t even trade for normalcy: discovering an amazing that movie neither of them has seen before, meeting Plinkett’s delivery guy at the door to steal a whole hot pizza, and having the kind of sex that they want to give each other awards for afterward. 

Bad days involve fighting over what to watch and moving to opposite corners of the basement with their headphones plugged into their phones when they can’t agree, eating ramen and dry cereal because they’re broke and Plinkett’s fridge is empty, and trying some new roleplay that they can’t get into, which leads to both disappointing sex and a sense that they’re creatively tapped-out hacks. 

A day like this occurs shortly after their year of nothing but each other has rolled over into a whole new year of what so far as been the same, and after they’ve gotten into a somewhat vicious fight about Mike’s inability to replace the toilet paper on the roll in the bathroom. To prevent himself from saying anything he can’t take back, Jay tells Mike he has to go for a walk alone to get some air. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Mike says. “I’ll go with you.” 

“Huh?” Jay is already getting dressed for the cold, standing by the stairs that lead up to the cellar door that they use to enter and exit the basement. “No, I just told you. I need a minute to myself.”

“So go cry in the shower or something. It’s not safe out there.” 

“I’m not gonna leave Plinkett’s neighborhood. What the hell’s not safe?”

Mike huffs and curls his hands into fists. Jay just stares at him, confused. While, yes, the world is currently a shitshow, it’s not like this snow-covered suburb is a war zone. 

“Fine, Jay!” Mike says, looking angrier than he did when Jay told him he’s a lazy slob who behaves like a child. “Do whatever the fuck you want!”

“I will, and I don’t need your fucking permission!” 

Jay storms out as soon as his boots are laced and stomps around in the snow feeling hot inside his coat and under his hat, lit up with rage. It’s a gray, overcast afternoon that suits his gloomy mood. Only when he’s been walking for quite a while does it occur to him that Mike might use this fight, and Jay’s declaration that Mike has no right to tell him what to do, as an excuse to try something really fucking stupid.

He curses under his breath and turns on his heel, walking fast and then running the full twenty minutes it takes to get back to Plinkett’s house, his lungs on fire as he hauls in freezing air and his out-of-shape legs screaming for mercy. He doesn’t slow down until he’s throwing himself full force against the cellar door with no consideration for Plinkett’s hearing this or not. As soon as he’s back inside the basement he sees he was too late anyway. 

Mike is standing near their bed, naked from the waist down and looking startled by Jay’s sudden entrance. He’s half hard and holding the Cock Master 5000, which is blinking red the way it does when it’s powered on.

“Don’t just leave that hanging open!” Mike says, waving his hand at the cellar door. “Jesus!” 

“What are you doing with that thing,” Jay says, out of breath from running and frozen in place at the bottom of the stairs. 

“It’s fine, Jay, I-- I tried it, okay, and it didn’t hurt me. Now close the fucking door, you’re letting the cold in!” 

Jay stares for another few blinks, looking from the Cock Master to Mike’s dick, which does appear unharmed, softening now that he’s been caught. Then he turns to close and lock the cellar door, struck by a sinking feeling that he’s entirely lost control of the whole Mike situation. 

“Did you put your cock in that thing?” he asks, hissing this in an angry whisper when he turns back to Mike, pulling off his hat and scarf. 

“Yes,” Mike says. He stands up taller and tries to look defiant. “And I think I understand how it works now.”

“You think.”

“Yes! Come over here. I’ll show you.”

“No. I don’t want to see.”

“Bullshit, Jay. This is a fun sex toy, not some weapon. God, your sexual hangups are so fucking sad. I’m surprised you even let me fuck your ass, frankly.” 

Jay stands staring at him with his coat half shrugged off, boiling with fury again in an instant. Mike looks a little afraid of him. 

“Maybe I won’t anymore,” Jay says. He’s fully aware of how unconvincing this sounds, despite his rage. 

“Oh shut up and come look at this with me. It’s real cool, just like I thought.” 

Jay sniffs and takes off his coat, then his boots. He takes his time making his way across the room to Mike, with his arms crossed over his chest and his nose preemptively scrunched up into a snarl.

“So?” he says when Mike just stands there studying him nervously. “What does it do?”

“Watch,” Mike says, and he grins. 

He slides his mostly soft cock into the sleeve of the Cock Master 5000, which is large enough that it would contain him if he was fully hard, with a diameter of about four inches. The interior and exterior are both smooth metal, and there’s a digital readout panel below the switch that powers the thing on and off, toward the top of the device’s rounded tip. The display shows text that mirrors what the thing’s robotic voice says, which they already knew from their attempts to stick bananas and dildos inside and try to fool it into thinking a cock had been inserted. 

“ANALYZING COCK,” the thing says, some red dots blinking around the edges of the digital readout. Inside, what appeared to be metal seems to soften into a cushion-like material and pushes in around the boundaries of Mike’s dick like a custom flesh light. “DEFAULT COCK IDENTIFIED.”

“See, when I put it in before,” Mike says, red-faced with what appears to be excitement when he looks up at Jay, his eyes shining with a reckless mania that Jay wishes he didn’t find attractive. “It said, ‘analyzing cock,’ then gave me the option to ‘save as default cock’ or ‘cancel.’ I canceled, the first time. Then I tried it again and picked ‘save as default cock,’ and now it recognizes me.”

“Recognizes you for what purpose?” Jay asks, hearing his voice do that high-pitched panic thing and not caring now. His heart is slamming, and he wants to take that thing away from Mike’s cock and fling it across the room. He’s experiencing some combination of protectiveness and jealousy that he hates very much. 

“This is the next screen you get,” Mike says, shuffle-stepping toward Jay so he can see the digital readout. 

There are two options on the touch screen: RELEASE COCK and SELECT COCK.

“What the hell does select cock mean?” Jay asks, feeling like he’s going to puke. 

“Let’s find out!” Mike says, and then he’s pressing that button. 

Jay makes a gut-punched sound, but it’s concealed by the sound of the Cock Master making a series of beeps as it loads a new menu. 

“What’s it doing to you?” Jay asks, grabbing Mike’s arm and trying to see inside the sleeve of the Cock Master, which is now hugged way too close around Mike’s dick for Jay’s comfort. 

“Nothing,” Mike says, jostling the thing that’s got a vice grip on his dick as if to prove that it’s harmless. “It’s just kind of warm. What is this?” he asks, using his finger to scroll through a menu of long words that Jay doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t even recognize the alphabet. 

“It’s an alien language,” Jay says. “Take that thing off yourself right now! You’ve gone far enough. God knows what any of those words mean.” 

“I don’t see any option to release on this menu,” Mike says. He tugs at the thing and grunts when it appears to be stuck, his erection thickening inside it. He shifts his gaze sideways to give Jay a sheepish look. 

“You’re turned on by this?” Jay asks, practically shouting, fully freaking out now. 

“Sorta,” Mike says. “Let’s see, uh. Maybe ‘cancel’ is at the bottom of this menu.” 

He scrolls again, but must have pressed too hard. The Cock Master lights up the menu selection that Mike tapped and starts beeping again, then speaks.

“BANDACARIAN DUOCLASP SELECTED. PROCESSING TRANSFORMATION.”

Jay shouts in alarm and squeezes Mike’s arm hard enough to bruise when the thing starts buzzing hard around Mike’s dick.

“Oh jesus!” Mike says, also shouting. 

“What’s happening?” Jay cries out, yanking on Mike’s arm as if he can help him get his dick out, his own balls pulling up tight in sympathetic terror inside his pants. “Mike! What’s it doing to you?”

“Uhhh, nothing, or-- Oh god-- Don’t worry, Jay, nnghh, it doesn’t hurt-- Ah, holy shit, it actually, um, feels really good-- Fuck!”

For a moment, Jay is sure that Mike just came inside the thing. He’s shuddering all over, eyes closed and mouth open. Then Jay isn’t sure of anything, because the Cock Master is unclenching from around Mike’s dick, which no longer looks like Mike’s dick so much as two fat, pale purple, tentacle-like things that flop out of the Cock Master and hang down over Mike’s still-human balls. 

“TRANSFORMATION COMPLETE. REINSERT COCK TO TRANSFORM AGAIN.” 

“Mike,” Jay says, feeling faint, staring. “What.”

“Ohhh, I see,” Mike says. He’s still a little breathless and his cheeks are bright pink, but he’s trying to play it cool. “Look, Jay,” he says, showing him the readout on the Cock Master’s screen. The two current options are REVERT TO DEFAULT COCK and SELECT COCK. “It’s a cock customizer!” Mike says, cheerful about this for some reason, with tentacles hanging where his dick should be. “You get to try out different kinds, and then you can have your real one back when you’re done. That’s why you set the default cock first. Makes sense now. This one must be from some alien species. Wow, look at these babies.” He swivels his hips and groans when the floppy tentacles smack together, sounding slightly wet and growing a little thicker as Jay boggles down at him, open-mouthed. “They’re really, mph. Sensitive, actually.” 

“Mike,” Jay says, his voice choked with shock and barely working. 

“Jay-- Oh, god, c’mere, sit down. You’re really pale.” 

Jay doesn’t remember sitting on the bed, but suddenly he’s there, with Mike beside him, Mike’s arm around his back and his hand soothing over Jay’s side. Jay forces himself to look down at the tentacles again and shouts in a dry bark when he sees them getting bigger and harder, standing out straight.

“It’s okay!” Mike says. “I’m just, uhh. Gettin’ hard.” 

“Put those back in that thing right now!” Jay says, lifting a shaking finger to point at the Cock Master. “Get-- Get your old one back! Hurry!”

“Aww, really? I kinda want to, like-- Just let me touch ‘em a little first. They won’t hurt you, Jay. They’re mine, sorta.” 

Jay tries to stammer that he’s not afraid of being hurt by those things, though he is, that he’s afraid for Mike’s health and also his sanity, but he can’t make his voice work while he watches Mike lovingly stroke one tentacle dick with a pleased groan, then the other, then both, though they’re getting so big and fat that they don’t really fit in his hand at the same time. 

“Damn, that’s crazy,” Mike says, and his head falls back while he touches what’s not technically himself. He spreads his knees wider, his feet on the floor and his ass on the mattress. “Fuck, fuck, that’s really good, ah-- Jay, feel ‘em. I’ve never felt anything like this.” 

“No,” Jay says, though he’s already reaching, fingertips trembling. 

“It’s like-- Fish skin?” Mike says, watching Jay tentatively make contact, draw his hand back with a gasp and then reach out again. “Or lizard scales? But smoother.” 

Jay whimpers when he touches the tentacle dick closest to him again. It’s identical to the one on the left, pressed up right against it as it steadily grows longer and fatter at the same threatening pace. Mike is right that there’s something amphibian or fish-like about the texture, and that it’s also smoother than one would expect from the skin either of those type of creatures. It’s slightly squishy, too, and cool to the touch. The uppermost tips of both tentacles are narrow and a darker shade of purple than the rest, glistening. Just looking at them makes Jay feel like those tips must be extra sensitive. He hasn’t seen Mike touch them yet. 

“This is fucking rad, man,” Mike says. “Feels really good when you-- _Yeah_ , oh. Jay. Like, like that-- _Unnh_ \--”

Jay makes an answering noise under his breath as he continues to rub three nervous fingertips up and down over the shaft of one of the alien dicks that Mike suddenly has. Touching it is making Jay hard, too, in his pants. There’s a kind of pulsating maliciousness to the tentacles that Jay is unfortunately attracted to. Mike’s grip on his side has gotten tight, his fingers clenching in hard enough to leave marks. Jay has been meaning to ask him: do you like the bruises, too? But he’s too embarrassed, despite everything. 

“Okay,” he says when the twin tentacle dicks just keep getting bigger, the left one now bubbling some clear, slightly iridescent liquid from its sensitive-looking up. “Um, okay, Mike. You’ve had your fun.” Jay is still rubbing his palm against the cock closest to him, can’t make himself stop. “Put, put that thing back on, ah, and change back.” 

“No way they’ll fit back in there now,” Mike says. He sighs happily for what Jay is doing to him, as if his clueless pawing is amazing. 

Jay gropes for the Cock Master and tries to angle it so that the now massive, erect tentacle cocks will slide into it, but Mike is right, it’s useless. He can get part of one inside, but he doesn’t even want to think about what would happen if the thing tried to change Mike back with an extra tentacle still hanging outside of it.

“We’ll have to get ‘em soft first,” Mike says. He grins and leans back onto his elbows, spreading his knees even wider. “Jesus, look at them! They’re so big they kinda hurt.” 

“Mike,” Jay says, all shaky-voiced, holding the Cock Master uselessly and staring at the tentacle cocks. They’re both leaking now, and they’re slick where they press together on the insides, too. “This is-- Too weird, even for us.”

“No, it’s not. I mean, if you want me to just jerk them off while you watch, I could.” Mike reaches down to grip them as best he can, groaning and dropping onto his back while he strokes them. “But, ah. It felt so good. When it was you.” 

Jay wants to touch the tentacle’s skinny uppermost tips, where the purple coloration has darkened even further, wet with whatever substance these things produce. He stares, watching Mike touch the tentacles, which finally aren’t getting any bigger, just straining to contain whatever substance they’ve filled with due to Mike’s arousal and Jay’s stimulation. They’ve got to be over a foot long, and they both look thicker than Mike’s regular cock. 

“WARNING,” the Cock Master says suddenly, making Jay jerk in terror and drop it on the bed. “LOW BATTERY.”

“Oh shit,” Mike says, sitting up with a wince. “Fuck-- What-- Where does the battery go?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Jay says, grabbing the thing and running his hands over the smooth metal, finding no hidden compartments for battery insertion. “It’s not like we have batteries for alien technology anyway! Jesus, Mike, hurry up and make those things come. If this thing’s battery dies--”

He looks up at Mike and swallows heavily, a cold feeling plummeting through him. Mike looks frightened, too, and Jay hopes this will make the erect tentacles deflate. He stares at them, watching that liquid bubble from the tips. They’re showing no sign of softening. 

“WARNING,” the Cock Master says again. “LOW BATTERY.”

“Fuck!” Jay says, leaping to his feet. “What do we do? Should we turn it off to save power?”

“Probably not,” Mike says. “Powering stuff off and on again can take a lot of battery life.”

“Mike! Goddammit! What have you done!”

“Shh, Jay, it’s okay, come here--”

“How can you be so fucking calm? What if you’re stuck with those things forever?”

“Jay,” Mike says, reaching for him. “Stop freaking out and come help me.”

Jay can see then that Mike is panicking, too, but trying not to let it overwhelm him. He’s always been weirdly good in a crisis. 

“What,” Jay says, feeling above all a sudden, horrible certainty that if he didn’t have Mike he wouldn’t have anything, not a single thing. “What do you need me to do?”

“Come kiss me, just-- Kiss me, at least, while I try to figure this out.” 

Jay hurries to the bed and drops into Mike’s arms, trying not to look at the alarmingly hard tentacle cocks. He presses his mouth to Mike’s, feeling awkward, like the first time they did this. That was back in the spring, when they were still living upstairs. Jay hadn’t kissed anyone on the mouth in years, and Mike was so hungry for it that Jay also felt like he hadn’t really kissed anyone before, ever, not like that. He’d definitely never kissed anyone with a shaggy beard like the one Mike had back in springtime. It was so weird, and good, and right. He pulls free from Mike’s shaking lips and looks down at the tentacle cocks again. 

“Those pointy things on the end,” Jay says, breathing hard while Mike holds him tight against his side. “Do they, um. Have you touched them?”

“Not yet,” Mike says, turning to stare at them, too. “Mhm. They’re leaking.” 

“What does it feel like?”

“What, uhh. Which part?”

“Hah-- Having those, like. Does it feel like a normal hardon?”

Mike snorts as if that was a dumb question, because of course there’s nothing normal about having two giant purple tentacle-like things where your cock should be. Jay rests his hand at the base of both cocks and Mike sighs softly, sounds relieved. The Cock Master is lying nearby on the mattress, no longer announcing that it’s battery is low but still powered on. Jay knows they need to hurry. He can’t fuck this up for Mike, or for himself. It’s clear to him only now just how perfect his life has been in recent months, and that losing any element of it would be devastating. 

“It feels like I’ve been hard for hours,” Mike says, placing his hand on top of Jay’s. He moves Jay’s hand on the tentacles, moaning low and guiding Jay’s fingers up over the long, cool shafts toward those leaking tips. “Feels like I need to come so bad, Jay.”

“Oh,” Jay says, tightening his grip a little. His thumb slips in between the two tentacles, where it’s damp and squishier than the outer parts of the shafts. He pulls it free when Mike groans. “Sorry,” he says. “Did that hurt?”

“No, fuck, it felt really good. Keep doing that, please.”

Jay whines and slides his thumb between the two tentacles again, where it’s also slightly warmer but still nowhere near the heat of human skin. Mike slumps onto his back and sort of humps the air while Jay experiments with touching him. Jay keeps chewing on his bottom lip and looking at the leaking tips of the tentacles, which are not just bubbling but full on dribbling clear liquid now. He’s gotten fully hard in his pants and wants to take them off, but he’s embarrassed by his boner, which hasn’t been true since he was a teenager. 

As a teenager he would beat off to stuff like this: cartoon tentacles, monster dicks, obscene drawings and filthy comics that he saved in deeply buried folders only after he had his own desktop computer in college and no longer had to share one with his siblings. He liked the idea of scales and slime better than human bodies for a long time. Maybe until Mike, actually.

“Careful--” Mike says, sitting up with a wince when Jay digs his thumb in too deep between the two tentacles, toward the place where they’re protruding from Mike’s human pelvis. 

“Sorry,” Jay says, removing his thumb as gently as he can. 

“It’s okay.” Mike leans over to kiss him. His lips are shaking. “Try the tips,” he says, muttering this into Jay’s mouth. “I don’t think that stuff that’s coming out will hurt you. I think it’s just, like, my come. Watered down, or something.”

“Mike,” Jay says, whining again, but he turns and reaches for the tips of the tentacles. 

Mike hisses as soon as Jay’s fingertips brush the left one, and Jay freezes. Mike shakes his head hard and thrusts his hips up, bumping both tips against Jay’s hand and moaning. They’re soft and warm, so wet now, and Jay’s dick throbs for the texture when he touches them again. 

“Ah, fuck,” Mike says. “Careful, just-- Yeah, mph. It’s like, like-- If your prostate was on the outside and ten times more-- Nnnnh, god. It’s good, it’s a lot.” 

Jay swallows and rubs the pad of his thumb over the wet end of one tip, then the other. Mike whimpers and slumps onto Jay, burying his face against Jay’s throat and trying to hump his hand. 

“Are you close?” Jay asks, glancing nervously at the Cock Master. It’s still powered on, but he’s concerned about the lack of continued LOW BATTERY announcements. 

“I dunno,” Mike says, whining. He rubs his face against Jay’s neck, his breath coming in hot, angry huffs. “Keep going. I feel-- Weird, like, really full, it’s a lot of puh, pressure.”

“Jesus,” Jay says, whispering. He keeps rubbing his fingers over both tentacle tips, which are getting wetter and puffier, too, darker purple. He hopes these are all good signs, has no idea what he’s doing or what to expect. Mike is breathing harder, faster.

“Fuck,” he says, grabbing for Jay’s side in another bruising grip. “Juh, Jay, it’s-- It’s like--”

“Do you need me to stop?”

“Jesus, no, we have to get these things to empty out so I can--”

“WARNING. LOW BATTERY,” the Cock Master says, finishing that thought for them.

Jay turns to snarl at it hatefully. 

“Jay,” Mike says, watery and scared-sounding, his face still hidden against Jay’s skin.

“Does it hurt?” Jay asks, moving his hand down to cup the shafts, which are throbbing now, so full that he knows the answer to this question, just from having a human dick that sometimes get so hard he feels like he’ll burst. 

“Mph,” Mike says, curling his shoulders forward. “Yeah, and-- I mean, it’s good, too, when you-- I don’t know, fuck--”

“Listen,” Jay says, grabbing Mike by the shoulders and pushing him up so their eyes meet. Mike’s are a little watery, and he’s gnawing at his bottom lip. Jay swallows and puts on his bravest expression. “I think we have to put them in me,” he says. 

“Them?” Mike says, weakly.

“Those things, Mike! Your-- Alien dicks. Even with your human one you take forever to come from just my hand, and there’s no way in hell they’ll fit in my mouth, so. My ass it is. Let’s do this, hurry.” 

“Are you crazy?” Mike says.

Jay can only reply by staring at him like: you got us into this situation and you really just asked me if _I’m_ crazy?

“They won’t fit,” Mike says, his shoulders sinking like he already knows they’re going to do this. Jay is unbuttoning his jeans, pulling down the zipper. “Not without hurting you.” 

“I think we can do it,” Jay says. “They’re squishier than your regular dick, and--”

“You’re hard?” Mike says, boggling when Jay shoves his pants and underwear down. “For this?”

“Are you fucking offended or something?” Jay asks, shouting, red-faced. 

“No! Just-- What--”

“You were moaning, and-- Whatever, get the lube! If that thing runs out of batteries we’re fucked.”

He blushes more deeply at his choice of phrasing. It would be more accurate to say that if that thing runs out of batteries they’ll be stuck fucking like this, with tentacles in place of Mike’s dick, forever. And Jay isn’t sure he’ll be able to get hard for those things after he’s experienced them-- Fully.

“Jay,” Mike says, softly. 

“Stop saying my name like that!” Jay snaps, by which he means: helplessly, the way Jay was just saying Mike’s, back when he was still processing that this is actually happening. 

“I’ve got the lube,” Mike says, lifting it. His bottom lip trembles. “But. I mean. No freaking way.”

Jay chews his tongue and debates whether or not to tell Mike about some of his wilder experiments with sex toys, back when he was first allowing himself to discover the joys of them.

“You’re not even the biggest guy I’ve been with,” he says instead. “I mean, when you’re, you know. The real you. Those things are the biggest, or will be, but. I can do this. I can make you come, and-- Just get over here and start trying.” 

Jay flings his shirt off and kneels on all fours on the bed, naked and pointing his ass in Mike’s direction. If he wasn’t sweating with panic he’d be freezing, but the usual cold in the basement can’t reach him while he’s feeling like this.

“You’re serious?” Mike says, hanging back, both straining tentacle dicks so hard that Jay knows just them weight of must ache while Mike is even partially upright, one knee on the edge of the mattress like he needs a pep talk before the big game.

“Do I look serious, Mike? We don’t have time for debate! Just-- Start with one, okay?”

Jay is terrified of failing to save Mike’s real dick and in the meantime strangely unafraid of actually having those things inside him. He buries his face in the sheets and lifts his ass, offering it for Mike to exploit. Mike is huffing like he wants to protest, and also like he’s probably uncomfortable with those things straining outward from his body, wanting stimulation. Jay shifts his knees apart and swallows down the pathetic little noise he almost made when he feels Mike crawl onto the mattress behind him. Mike’s weight always tilts the balance of their bed, and right now he seems extra massive. 

“I, ah,” Mike says. “I don’t even know if we need lube. These things are soaked.”

“Use lube anyway,” Jay says, wanting to kill him. He’s still hard, which probably means he also lost his mind months ago, around the time Mike did. “Are you kidding me?” he shouts when Mike rubs his lube slicked fingers in between his ass cheeks. “We don’t have time for that!” 

“I’m not fingering you!” Mike says. He sounds like he’ll cry. Jay has to bite the blanket that’s bunched up near his face to keep from snorting with laughter like a lunatic. “You told me to use lube!” He’s still slathering more between Jay’s cheeks, dumping what feels like half the bottle there and only thumbing at his hole a little. 

“Hurry,” Jay says. He groans and arches his back dramatically, something he usually does only if he’s drunk enough to feel no shame. “I need you,” he says in a small voice, peeking back at Mike. There’s no point in being embarrassed to say so now, and Mike will know what he means, will see it on his burning face: the real you, back the way I had you. 

“Okay,” Mike says, pink-cheeked and rubbing the small of Jay’s back with one hand. He’s supporting the tentacle cocks with the other, and they are indeed soaked in their own pre-come now, or whatever that slick stuff that the tips produce is. “Just tell me if you need to stop. I got myself into this. It’s not on you to get me out of it.”

Jay hides his face again before rolling his eyes. As if Mike doesn’t understand they’re in this together, whatever ‘this’ is, for the rest of their lives. 

As if Mike didn’t understand that before Jay did.

“It’s fine, Mike,” Jay says, wiggling his ass. “Honestly-- I’m curious.”

He gulps after saying so, realizing it’s true.

“Oh, Jay,” Mike says, like he did the other night, when he thought Jay was already asleep. 

Then he’s nudging one of those tips into the wet clench of Jay’s ass and groaning. 

“Fuck,” Mike says when he tries to push the fatter part of just one tentacle into him, the other one sliding down below Jay’s ass cheek. “Ngh, shit, ah-- Jay.”

“What?” Jay says, though he can guess, based on how Mike reacted when Jay’s thumb slid too deeply into the damp space between the tentacles.

“It, like-- Fuck! It hurts, bad, when they pull apart too much.” 

“Jesus. Okay, well. Both, then.”

“Jay!”

“Stop whining and do what I said, Mike, goddammit! Or you’ll never fuck me again! How’s that, huh? How would you like-- _Ah_ , oh shh-iit--”

At first it’s just the two wet, now less-soft tips of both tentacles pushing into his ass, and it feels so wonderfully weird that Jay shivers all over and tries to open his hips even wider, wanting more. Then way too much more presses in, the width of the tentacles just below those narrow tips feeling ten times bigger and splitting him open mercilessly from the first soggy push. 

Mike pulls out when Jay makes a death rattle sound, leaving just the tips inside. The tips start moving independently of each other, squirming around inside Jay’s ass like curious fingers, and that part feels so good that Jay rolls his hips back, chasing the sensation even while it makes him shudder nervously, too. It’s like those things are soothing him, apologizing for what comes next.

“I can’t really do this gradually,” Mike says, again sounding like he’ll cry. “I mean, this part, if, both-- Are you sure you don’t want me to stop? We could go to outer space, Jay. We could find alien batteries.”

“I don’t want to go to space,” Jay says, already sobbing a little. He barely even wants to leave this basement ever again, if he’s honest. “Do it, you cowardly shitfuck.” 

The insult works as intended. Mike’s previously soothing hand on Jay’s back shifts to grip his ass cheek hard and pull it out of the way, and he pushes the fat head of one slime-soaked tentacle into Jay, then starts trying to work the other in alongside it. 

One of the things that Jay has come to understand since he started letting Mike fuck him is that sometimes it feels really good to go limp and just let someone else be in control. He harnesses that knowledge as best he can as his heart slams against his ribcage like it doesn’t want any part of this, and tries to make the rest of his body relax as much as possible. Mike is grunting, frustrated, trying to do this gently even though they both know that’s not gonna work.

“WARNING,” the Cock Master says. “LOW BATTERY.”

“Please, Mike,” Jay says, letting his voice break on Mike’s name. 

“Fuck!” Mike screams, like he’s appealing to some minor god of huge cocks, asking for help. 

Then he pops the head of the second tentacle in alongside the first with a cry and grabs Jay’s other ass cheek, holding them both out of the way as he watches his alien dicks penetrate him. 

Jay is too stunned from the shock of pain to make any noise that he’s cognizant of, but it mellows when he realizes he still can feel those thin tentacle tips inside him, squirming around like two sentient organisms that are trying to map the walls of his ass while his rim is stretched open wider than is probably advisable. One of the tips finds his prostate and seems to almost suck on it. Jay makes a noise that’s embarrassingly close to a shriek for how good it feels, so intense that it almost turns around into a different kind of pain. 

“Oh god,” Mike says, his voice all watery. “I’ll pull out again, hang on--”

“Nuh, no, don’t--” Jay says, panting. “It’s-- Doing something, s _hhhhii_ tt, oh, my god, haa--!”

“Jay? Jay! Talk to me, what’s happening?”

Jay comes hard in answer, his back bowing while that thing keeps doing whatever it’s doing inside him, milking his prostate like it was made for this purpose. 

He’s still coming what feels like minutes later, whimpering through it, overwhelmed and flopped down with his ass lifted while Mike leans over his back and pets him, cursing under his breath.

“Jay?” Mike says for maybe the hundredth time. “Are you-- Is it okay-- You. Did you just come?”

Jay laughs weakly and feels a bubble of spit pop at the corner of his mouth. 

“Yes,” he says. “Hah, god-- Push in more, you have to shift, shift inside me, please-- It’s, it’s still, nnngh, it’s too much--”

He’s not even sure that the tip of the tentacle will disconnect from his prostate if Mike shoves in deeper, and he groans as the width of the two tentacles sliding over it provides too much stimulation, too, though less intensely. He exhales with relief when he feels the thinner tips of the tentacles moving away from that spot where he’s now too sensitive, sliding in deeper with the rest of them, and hopes what follows will be more straight-forward fucking, though that felt incredible and he’s still buzzing all over from it, softened like butter and taking Mike more easily now. What’s already inside him feels surprisingly good, only his rim straining with a stinging pain as Mike keeps inching in, gasping every time he gets a little momentum and watches himself splitting Jay open wider.

“This is insane,” Mike says. “Shit, fuck-- There’s no way that’s not hurting you.” 

“It did something to me,” Jay says, hearing how slurry his voice sounds post-orgasm and wiping at the wet corner of his mouth. “It’s, like. I dunno. Mike, I’m okay.” 

“Did something?” Mike says, his voice pinched. 

“Nnnh.” Jay nods, closes his eyes and feels the tips of the tentacles moving inside him in a searching way, like they’re looking for another spot to suck on or some other way to make him come again, feeling along the walls of his ass as Mike works the thicker parts in behind them. They’re filling him up with their plentiful fluids as they go, and if he wasn’t stuffed completely full he’d be leaking. “It’s, like, a painkiller or somethin’, I dunno.”

“What is-- Huh?”

“Mike, just fuck me! God.”

Jay still feels feeble from how hard he came, like maybe he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, but he’s proud of himself for getting his voice back into shape, enough to give Mike that order in a tone that made it sound like there will be real consequences if it’s not obeyed. He must have gotten the message across, because Mike starts humping into him, pulling back and then pushing more of the tentacles inside with a groan when he shoves in again, a little at a time but not exactly slowly. 

“Fuck yeah,” Jay says, feeling himself go cross-eyed. “Does that, fuh, feel good, for you?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, grunting.

“Tell me.” 

“Feels like-- Mph, fuck. Like I’m gonna come so hard in your smug fucking ass with this freakshow cock that my balls will explode.”

“Mike!” Jay says, scolding him and trying not to laugh. He moans when laughing makes him realize how deep Mike is already, though not deeper than he’s been before. There’s just so much more of him now, so many too-fat inches left to push inside. 

“God,” Mike says, whining. “I don’t want to break you, but.” 

“But?”

“It’s, just. They’re so full Jay, nnnn, I really need to come.” 

“Yeah,” Jay says, nodding and pushing up onto his hands, his back and shoulders shaking. “Do it. Just go ahead and-- I think it’s okay. I won’t break.” 

“Like hell. You’re not back here, ungh. Seeing this. You’re so--” 

“Mike, I’ve had a guy’s fist in me before,” he says, even though it was actually an extra large dildo that he still doesn’t want to admit to owning. “I’m resilient. Don’t hold back.” 

He glances over at the Cock Master. He’s breathing in shaky exhales, dripping sweat, but even the rim of his ass feels okay now, if pushed to its limit. The Cock Master is still powered on, but he’s afraid the lights on the display look a little less bright. Maybe he’s only imagining that. Hopefully.

“Whose fist?” Mike says. 

“Mike!”

“Okay, okay! Just. Hold on. I’m gonna start fucking you now.”

Jay huffs dryly, wants to ask what Mike thinks the rest of this has been.

Then Mike pulls back, slams in again, and he understands. 

What they did up to till now was something else, and for that matter so was every other time Jay ever got off on having his ass filled, thinking he was a real tough guy for taking it hard and asking for more. He’s never been fucked like this before, and his hand goes to his stomach when he’s pretty sure he can feel the heads of the tentacles punching there. 

What he actually feels is a kind of bloat, because he’s overfull with that liquid those things have been leaking into him and almost ready to demand Mike pull out just to let some of it drain. The tips of the tentacles are doing some kind of swirling, soothing thing inside him, and he’s hard again, but only a little. The friction on his rim feels insane, and Mike’s pained noises are doing something to him, too, because it’s like Mike is doing this for him, like he’s suffering for Jay’s insane pleasure. 

“Oh god,” Mike says, leaning over Jay’s back to grind into him when he’s maybe all in. Jay can’t tell, has felt like an unreal amount of dick is inside him since the first few inches. “Jay, I can’t-- It’s gonna hurt, fuck--”

Jay thinks this is a warning for him, then realizes Mike means it will hurt to come as hard as he’s about to. 

“S’okay,” Jay says, sluggish again, feeling like he’s transformed into a putty-like creature that has never known pain. “Mike, just. Let it happen. Mhm, please, I want it.” 

He’s not sure he sounds convincing, though of course he wants Mike to come so they can jam that Cock Master back onto him before it’s too late. If the tentacles take half an hour to deflate or longer than that to finish unloading, he’s not sure what he’ll do. Die, maybe. 

“Jay,” Mike says, pumping into him in a few long strokes before grinding again, making Jay see colors behind his eyelids that he’s pretty sure are from some other galaxy. “It’s coming, oh fuck, it’s gonna--”

“Yeah,” Jay says, pleased when his voice comes out all rough and slutty. “Mike, mhm. Fill me up good and dirty. Want your whole nasty fuckin’ load inside me, you know I love it.” 

Mike whines and fucks in hard, smacking his balls against Jay’s taint, so deep now that Jay is pretty sure he shouldn’t be able to breathe, though somehow it’s still happening. He’s groaning, too, almost as loud as Mike, and when Mike goes still and starts to come inside him they both let out a broken cry of relief mixed with fear. Jay feels the tips of the tentacles expanding inside him and tenses up, but they don’t get much bigger before they’re spilling cool, watery liquid into him. It feels good, soothing over the ragged walls inside him that have been fucked open spectacularly wide, but he can’t take much of that liquid, sincerely worries he’ll burst if he doesn’t shove Mike out of him. He fumbles his hand back against Mike’s chest and gut, pushing at him. Mike gets the idea and pulls out with a whimper, still spilling as he extracts both tentacles carefully from Jay’s gaping ass. 

“Holy shit,” Jay says, and a cold shudder of relief passes through his entire body as he pants into the blankets and lets Mike coat him with more of that liquid, soaking his ass cheeks and the backs of his thighs. Then he remembers their mission and whirls back to look at the tentacles, his heart bracing for tragedy if they’re not deflating. He laughs happily, crazily, when he sees they’re already shrinking up to their original, not-erect size as Mike uses both hands to milk them till they’re empty. 

Mike looks wrecked, like he barely knows where he is. His face is soaked with sweat and maybe tears, too, considering how pink the corners of his eyes are. Jay grabs for the Cock Master and helps Mike feed the still-shrinking tentacles into it. As he does it, he rubs his thumb over the shriveling, now dark purple tips as if to say farewell, and smirks up at Mike when he whimpers from the overstimulation. Jay’s ass is beyond overstimulation. He can’t even think about it yet, barely recognizes it for how open it feels against the bedsheets, and how wet. He’ll worry about that later. For now he’s carefully, gradually getting the Cock Master onto the tentacles, watching with held breath as the display starts to flicker a little, the battery weakening. 

“Okay,” he says when both tentacles are just nearly contained, squelching into the sleeve of the Cock Master when it tightly hugs everything but the last few thickest, still deflating inches. Mike is wincing, watching this with both hands pressed over his mouth. “Almost there.” 

“Jay,” Mike says. “Jay, jesus christ, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, shh. There we go.” 

Jay hits REVERT TO DEFAULT COCK as soon as the thing is snugged up tight against Mike’s spent balls. Mike groans and tips forward when it whirs to life, his hands going to Jay’s shoulders. Watching, Jay considers how he’ll feel if Mike is stuck with twin tentacle dicks forever. While it would not be ideal, Jay wouldn’t mind readjusting his expectations of sex to having his prostate sucked on by the tip of a wet little tentacle mouth, if it comes to that. 

Just as he’s nearly made peace with the idea, the Cock Master shuts off, battery dead. Mike’s hands tighten painfully around Jay’s shoulders. He’ll have fingerprint-shaped bruises. He eases the Cock Master off and laughs in a shaky exhale when Mike’s familiar human cock slops out, still coated in watery alien jizz. 

“Thank fuck,” Jay says, falling back onto the bed, boneless and spent, the ache in his ass beginning to register as the adreneline wears off. He’s mostly sore around the rim, the interior still buzzing with the relief-giving magic of whatever that liquid stuff was. He peeks at Mike and sees him touching his soft dick, breathless while he examines it to see if everything’s where he left it. “You okay?” Jay asks, sweeping his damp hair back. 

Mike looks up at him. He seems kicked, then sheepish, visibly ashamed of himself. He releases his cock and nods. 

“Did I hurt you?” Mike asks, sounding like he just got throat fucked by his emotions. “Are you hurt?”

“Bruised, I think,” Jay says, rubbing at his shoulders, where Mike’s fingers dug in hard while they waited to see what his fate would be. “But I don’t mind. Come here, what are you doing?”

“I-- Jay. Lemme see.”

“Huh?”

“Let me see. I want to make sure you’re not hurt.”

Jay sighs, realizing Mike means his ass, that he wants to examine it. Jay feels similarly about Mike’s restored dick, so he allows it, rolling onto his belly with a tired grunt. 

“Jesus christ,” Mike says, under his breath. Jay turns to him with a frown. “No, I mean-- It’s okay. Just. Holy shit.”

Jay grunts, can still feel liquid leaking out of him steadily. He hides his face in his arms, feeling like he might fall asleep. Mike moves over him carefully, touching his hip and then his ass cheek, thumbing at it so he can survey the wreckage more clearly. Jay hisses and twitches out of his grip. 

“Can I lick you out?” Mike asks, stroking Jay’s ass cheek with gentle fingertips like an apology.

“Better not,” Jay says, regretfully, because though he’s not hard at all that sounds nice. “That stuff’s all tingly, like, healing me up or something. Dunno what it might do to your tongue.” 

Mike moans and settles himself against Jay’s side, still moving like Jay is made of glass. Jay keeps his face hidden and lets Mike stroke his hair. 

“I don’t know why I did that,” Mike says, his voice all hushed and serious in a way that Jay doesn’t like. 

“It’s fine,” Jay says, voice muffled. “We’re just bored out of our minds.” 

“It’s not fine. Don’t forgive me. And I’m not bored. But I know you are. I guess that’s why I did it. I thought it would entertain you.”

Jay lifts his head to snarl at Mike, planning to call him an idiot. When he sees the broken up look on Mike’s face he presses his lips shut and rolls against Mike’s chest instead, sighing. 

“Don’t assume you know my every thought,” Jay says. “Just because. Because we’re--”

He’s too tired of think of any non-embarrassing words for it. Close, intimate, in love. Even ‘living together’ seems too weird a way to describe whatever it is they’re doing. He leaves the statement hanging unfinished and drops his head to the mattress again, flexes his back and closes his eyes.

Mike curls up into as much of a pathetic ball as is possible with his huge body, hiding his face against Jay’s chest. Jay wraps around him and smiles against the top of his head when he feels Mike’s warm, familiar cock resting against his thigh, soft and a little sticky. He reaches down to fondle it, checking the dimensions. Everything seems right, and Mike starts to get hard for his touch, twitching in his hand. He whines a little, his face still buried between Jay’s pecs.

“How’s it feeling?” Mike asks, surely meaning Jay’s ass. 

“Pretty well-fucked, Mike.” 

“Can I feel?”

“Oh, god. Fine.” 

“I don’t have to, sorry--”

“No, I want you to,” Jay says, hooking his leg over Mike’s hip to give him access. “Want to see what it’s like with, uh. If you touch me, inside. That stuff those things left in me still feels pretty good.” 

Mike sighs and lifts his face to Jay’s throat, kisses him there. He reaches around and kneads at Jay’s ass cheek for a bit before sneaking his fingers in through the crack, moaning when he feels the rawness at the rim that makes Jay hiss. 

“You can push in,” Jay says when Mike hesitates. “Doesn’t hurt.”

The careful touching feels good, stirring up the tingly, soothing substance left behind inside him. He tries clenching around two of Mike’s fingers as they slip inside, and echoes Mike’s deep groan for the shock of feeling how open he is, softened and wet, his fuck-warmed ass letting Mike in more easily than it ever has before. 

“One of those things gave me some kind of prostate blow job,” Jay says, grinning to himself when Mike presses his fingertips there hopefully, trying to make him come again even after all that. “It was kind of amazing, actually.”

“That’s when you came?”

“Yeah.”

Jay makes little noises of encouragement, eyes closed while Mike feels around inside him, rubbing that tingly-feeling wetness into his sore spots and knuckling at his prostate until he starts to get hard. They make out sleepily, and when Mike pulls his fingers out he rolls Jay gently onto his back and moves down to kneel between his legs.

“I’m gonna suck yours, too,” Jay says when Mike leans down to lap at his erection in a way that Jay can only describe as lovingly. “After you shower, of course.” 

“You don’t have to,” Mike says, aiming sad eyes up at his face.

“No shit. I want to. I earned that cock, didn’t I? Saved it for you? For both of us?”

“Yeah, you did.” 

Mike grins and gives Jay’s shaft a big, sloppy lick. He circles his tongue around the head, still watching Jay’s face while his breathing gets faster. 

“It’s gonna take me a long time to come, probably,” Jay says, folding his arms behind his head. 

“Good,” Mike says. “I’ll be your cock warmer even after you come. You deserve it. Jay.”

Jay peers down at him from beneath heavy eyelids, wary, because Mike is giving him a serious look and just said his name the way he always does before some weirdness follows.

“You take such good care of me,” Mike says, and he does Jay the mercy of diving down to take his cock fully in his mouth right after saying so, absolving him from responding. Jay just groans happily and pets Mike’s hair, trying to tell him with a touch: yes, I know, thank you for noticing. 

After Mike’s shower Jay luxuriates in blowing him, moaning around his, clean, warm, perfectly human dick until Mike comes in a weak little spurt on Jay’s tongue, still near-dry after that huge load the alien dicks managed to pump out of him. He pulls Jay against him and they sleep for a long time with all the blankets piled on top of them, curled up together in the center of the mattress. Jay wakes up to the sound of Plinkett puttering around upstairs and singing to himself the way he sometimes does. Normally it annoys Jay, especially when he’s trying to sleep, but in the moment he doesn’t mind. It’s almost cheerful, a reminder that everything is back to normal, for their personal definition of normal. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he says when he wakes some time later and finds Mike sitting up in bed, curiously examining the Cock Master 5000.

“I’m not!” Mike says. “Jesus. Just wondering where the old bastard got this, exactly.”

“Mike, do you really want to know? Give it to me, I’m gonna go throw it in the dumpster.” 

“No!” Mike says, hugging the thing to his chest as if he still somehow feels an affinity for it. “It gave us a good time, didn’t it?” he says when Jay levels him with an are-you-kidding-me stare. “The battery’s dead, anyway. What’s the harm in keeping it around as a memento?”

Jay groans and gets out of bed to make some coffee. There’s no reasoning with Mike. He’s completely ruled by emotions that Jay doesn’t even pretend to understand.

“Let me do that,” Mike says, following Jay over to the cabinet where he’s digging out a coffee filter. 

“Why?” Jay asks. Mike only drinks coffee when he’s hungover. 

“Because I want to,” Mike says, in a way that makes Jay hold up his hands and walk off, because Mike seems annoyed and Jay is too tired to get into another argument over nothing. 

For the rest of the day, or whatever the hours following their experience with the Cock Master amount to, Mike is quiet and attentive, bringing Jay his coffee and then a refill, then some frozen waffles fresh from the toaster, then offering to rub his back. Jay accepts all of this as Mike’s idea of penance and tries to enjoy the rare experience of being waited on by him while it lasts, but he feels a little insulted, like Mike thinks he’s fragile or something. 

“So,” Mike says, studying Jay when they’re in bed together, the TV playing some dumb movie that Jay is half watching while he reads dumb things on his phone. He looks over at Mike, who seems to be waiting for his fully attention. “Who fisted you?” Mike asks. 

Jay sputters a laugh and grabs for the bottle of beer he’s been working on, takes a sip. Mike has a beer, too, and he’s gulping from it while he stares at Jay with unblinking seriousness. 

“Okay, Mike, you got me,” Jay says, unable to keep the grin off his face. “It was Mr. Plinkett.”

“That’s not funny, Jay. I’m serious, tell me. And who has a bigger cock than me, huh? That you’ve been with?”

“Mike, jesus christ.” 

“What? What! I’m not allowed to wonder? I’m just making conversation, Jay.”

Jay groans and sinks deeper into the nest of blankets surrounding him. It’s probably nighttime, because it’s colder than it is in the basement during the day. Sometimes he goes over to the cellar door and opens it just to check, to orient himself, though it doesn’t really matter.

“Listen,” Mike says, crawling over toward Jay and dragging most of his own blanket nest with him in the process. “I heard someone up there talking to Plinkett, earlier.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He was talking about coming back to install a flatscreen and streaming services.”

“Shit. Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh. Tomorrow, he said. Which is the real reason I was so mad at you for nagging me about toilet paper roll etiquette, and why I used the Cock Master after you left.” 

“Um. I’m not following.”

“Jay.” Mike moves closer, staring him down. Jay shrinks further into the blankets, startled by the look in Mike’s eyes. “Are you going to dump me when this is all over?”

“This-- What?”

“I gave up my apartment, Jay. To squat here with you.”

“Mike, are you drunk? What is happening?”

Mike finishes his beer and pitches the empty bottle across the room, where it shatters against the wall.

“Jesus, don’t!” Jay says, grabbing Mike’s bicep. “Plinkett will hear!”

“Soon it won’t matter. Things are changing up there. I can feel it. The situation is evolving.” 

Jay rolls his eyes. His heart is pounding, and he’s gripping Mike’s arm pretty tight, because he’s afraid of what comes next, too. But he’s not going to get all dramatic about it like Mike.

“What could possibly make me dump you?” Jay asks. “If I haven’t so far?”

Mike studies Jay’s eyes, awaiting a punchline or looking for signs that he’s lying. 

“Seriously, who was he?” Mike asks, shoulders dropping.

“Who was-- What?” Jay pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “You’re making me dizzy.” 

“The fisting guy, Jay! Was he the same guy with the big dick? Bigger than mine?”

Jay groans, then almost laughs. Mike looks weepy, like he really believes Jay has ever had anything better than him. 

“He doesn’t exist,” Jay says, petting Mike’s stubble. “I just said that stuff in the heat of the moment so you’d stop feeling guilty and fuck me. They were lies, but. I like to think of them as heroic lies.”

Mike moans and leans over to put his head in Jay’s lap. Jay strokes his hair and the back of his neck, not sure if Mike believes him about never having been fisted and never having gotten fucked as well as Mike fucks him. 

“Look,” Jay says. “If we ever get out of here, I’ll show you my sex toy collection. That’ll clear some things up.” 

“Is it bigger than Plinkett’s?” Mike asks, and Jay sees the corner of his lips twitch into an almost smile. 

“No, but if it had a theme it would be ‘size matters.’”

Mike snickers and rolls over so that his face is pressed to Jay’s belly. Jay’s back and ass are still sore, and Mike’s weight on his lap is a lot, but he’s glad Mike isn’t treating him like a battered, fragile thing anymore. He knew it wouldn’t last long.

“That’s cruel of your sex drive or whatever,” Mike says. “Making you want big things the way you do.”

“No, it’s not. What?”

“‘Cause you’re so small.”

“Oh. No, it’s still not cruel. That just makes getting the big stuff better. And I’m not even that small. I mean. I could be smaller. Some people are.” 

“Have you ever thought about how many ways we’re the inverse of each other?” Mike asks, rolling onto his back to stare up at Jay’s face with a dopey grin. “The fact that we both have a cock is one of the few things we have in common.”

“We have lots of things in common, Mike, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Not physically! Never mind, you just don’t appreciate the beauty of it. I knew you wouldn’t.” 

Jay doesn’t want to get into a discussion about what he finds beautiful. He’s hungry, and when he says so Mike volunteers to sneak up into Plinkett’s kitchen to scout for food. Jay waits for him, wrapped in blankets, listening to his heavy footsteps up on the first floor. Mike doesn’t move carefully enough, as carefully as Jay would, but it doesn’t matter. Plinkett is asleep, and when Mike returns to the basement he’s grinning, bearing a loaf of potato bread, a wedge of cheese, and a bottle of whiskey. 

“The three food groups,” he says, laying them down before Jay like an offering. 

“Perfect,” Jay says, ‘cause he’s in a good mood and that cheese looks fancy. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my little prince.” 

They eat and do some light plotting for the circumstances upstairs, mapping out several scenarios and how they might best cash in. Jay doesn’t really care, and gets the sense that Mike doesn’t, either, though extra wealth is always welcome. In the meantime, they have everything they need.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from one of my favorite M&J songs: [Fool](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5tswghHDrU)
> 
> Theme song is also [Location](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqIz5_qbxrA), possibly again ?? 
> 
> Also [Half-Light](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3AJBC-z00s&list=PLymf1Anmr4XFAbbbFqMTqGrpUh4dpOHC2&index=3)! 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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